


Lucas/Eliott tumblr prompts

by toxica939



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Multi, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2020-01-12 03:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18438146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: Collection of short ficlets originally posted to tumblrIndividually rated





	1. Chapter 1

**The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade**

**Rated T**

**:::**

It’s too early; light still grey and watery through the gap in the blinds. Lucas turns his face into the pillow to block it out. It’s too fucking early and they went to bed too fucking late; he flashes through a hazy highlight reel of alcohol, Yann waving his arms around, Eliott laughing with his mouth wide open. It’s enough to make his own mouth curl, even while his temples pound.

His stomach is complaining quietly about the abuse, but Eliott’s a line of heat up against his back, tucked around Lucas like a question mark. He snags Eliott’s hand where it’s hanging over his side, tugs it up to cuddle it against his chest. It’s the benefit of being the little spoon; his own personal comfort blanket. It’s too fucking early, he’s not moving yet.

He comes to to the smell of coffee, and gentle fingers trailing across his shoulder blade, spiderwalking down his spine as the bed dips. He grinds the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until he’s awake enough to roll over.

“Coffee?” Eliott offers, shuffling back under the covers; cold feet and boney ankles fighting Lucas’ for space in the warm spot.

Lucas kicks him. “Fuck, you’re freezing.”

Eliott’s smile is patiently indulgent. The one he always puts on when Lucas is being a brat and he’s pretending he not to find it charming. “I can take the it back, if you want,” he offers mildly, putting one of the cups in his hand on the bedside table, but the innocent eyes are all bluff. He would never.

Lucas kicks him again for good measure anyway, tempers it with a kiss to the closest patch of bare skin and his hand sliding over Eliott’s stomach, thumb raising the hairs under his belly button so he can smooth them down again.

It’s heady, the way Eliott will melt for him; he sinks back against the wall, mug cradled under his chin and Lucas watches his face go soft and slack, hips shifting under the attention. He’s tempted to lean up for a kiss, lick the bitter inside of Eliott’s mouth, see if he can get a different buzz going.

He settles for curling himself around Eliott’s side instead, slings a leg over him to keep him where he is. He closes his eyes again, instead of saying anything, listens to the gentle pulse of Eliott swallowing while the room brightens behind his eyelids.


	2. Blowing a raspberry against someone’s skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated E

“I should go,” Eliott’s saying. It’s not particularly convincing, given the way he’s hovering over Lucas, dropping kisses across his collarbones; hot and wet, and stinging, when Eliott tests the sharp edge of his teeth on him.

Lucas lets his hands wander across the expanse of Eliott’s back; the bumps of his spine, shoulder blades shifting like tectonic plates as he slinks down Lucas’ body.

Lucas hmms so Eliott knows he heard him.

“You need to study,” Eliott says, jabbing Lucas with his chin.

Lucas oofs and glares. “And you don’t?”

That gets him a dark look right back, Eliott blowing a raspberry next to Lucas’ bellybutton in retaliation, making him twist and laugh, belly caving.

Lucas grabs at his head, grinning. “Fuck, don’t, don’t,” strokes Eliott’s hair until he subsides. “I can study with you here,” he says. “You’re not that distracting.”

Eliott’s eyebrows rise. “Oh. Is that so? Is that how it is?”

Lucas, who is suddenly very aware of of his own nakedness, and the way his thighs are spread around Elliot’s ribcage, swallows hard.

Eliott’s mouth, when it sinks down over him, is scalding.

Lucas’ hands waver in mid air; caught between scrambling for Eliott’s shoulders and twisting in the sheets.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, eyes squeezing shut. “Shit, shit, shit”

He breath hisses out through his teeth when Eliott’s chuckle vibrates through him.

Eliott’s good at this. Too fucking good at this. Lucas feels like he’s levitating, heart thundering against his ribs. He had this idea, before he ever actually got a decent blowjob, that he was to supposed to relax into the bed, hands behind his head, recline like a king, let himself be serviced or something.

In reality he can hardly keep still, keeps elbowing up to watch before it gets too much and he has to flip down again, heels sliding on the bed, thighs and stomach clenching hard.

He palms the back of Eliott’s head, fingers sinking into his hair, not to push or pull or anything like that. Just to touch him, feel the rhythm of him, the rise and fall.

He pants, chin drawn toward the ceiling, lungs burning.

He’s going to come, he realises with startling clarity. He’s going to come and there’s not going to be anything he can do to stop it. It’s going to  _ruin_  him.

He barely gets a warning out, hands coming over his head to push at the wall, spine arching away from the bed, the soles of his feet are burning.

Eliott eases him through it, first with his mouth and then with a gentle fist around him.

When it’s over, Lucas can only blink at Eliott rising over him, wet down his chin and smirking. No one should be able to smile like that at this time of the morning.

“Sorry what were you saying?”

Lucas smooths his shaking hands over the balls of Eliott’s shoulders. Says, “You’re an idiot,” just to make Eliott laugh. Then he strokes his face, fits his thumb to the dip beneath Eliott’s mouth. Says, “I love you” and means it with everything in him.

Eliott eyes him for a minute, eyes gone soft and liquid, before draping himself over Lucas’ chest, ribs crushed together, hearts thumping back and forth from one body to the other. Lucas lets his gaze unfocus, lets the ceiling spin.


	3. Orange sunsets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T

He finds Eliott by the water; bowed head, broad shoulders, and the points of his drawn up knees.

Ordinarily, Lucas would pounce, throw himself on Eliott’s back, maybe shout something in his ear to watch him jump. As it is he clears his throat as he walks by, gives him plenty of warning before he sits down.

The grass bleeds damp through his jeans straight away, and the fact that Eliott doesn’t seem bothered by it makes Lucas feel shitty all over again.

They sit in silence for a minute, watching the sky catch fire while the sun slips away, shards of orange shattering across the rippling surface of the water. He can smell meat cooking somewhere, that smokey, cloying smell that always makes his mouth water.

He wants to ask if Eliott’s eaten.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Lucas says. Because he is, and it seems important to get that out of the way first.

Eliott looks at him, dark around the eyes and in the hollows of his cheekbones. “You shouldn’t be apologising to me.”

“I was a dick about it, so yes I should.”

Eliott’s breath huffs out of his nose, amused. “You were sort of a dick,” he allows.

“Right? Exactly. You said you were alright and I should have listened to you. I didn’t mean to push,” he knocks their shoulders together because he hates this. He wants to put his hands on Eliott, stroke his fingers down the brittle line of his jaw, kiss his chapped mouth. He hates it that he’s not sure he should right now.

“I shouldn’t have taken off like that,” Eliott says. “You  _were_  being a dick, but so was I. So I’m sorry too.”

“It’s fine,” Lucas tells him.

Eliott shakes his head and his voice, when he speaks, is bitter. “No it’s not.”

Lucas keeps quiet, because it isn’t. But they’re getting there.

When it starts to feel like the silence might deafen him, Eliott’s hand slides across his shoulders, tugs Lucas in against his side. His temple rests heavy and warm against Lucas’.

“I’m glad you found me,” Eliott tells him, squeezing him.

Lucas doesn’t say, _I’ll always find you_ , because he’s not in a romance novel, but he thinks it pretty loudly. He thinks Eliott knows, anyway.

They sit there in the wet grass while the shadows grow long. It’s almost dark out now.


	4. The taste of vodka at the back of your throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T

Mika’s been hogging Eliott for last hour, the pair of them huddled together on the couch sniggering down at their phones. And Lucas isn’t the jealous type ok? Shut up, Yann, he’s not, but Manon’s still pretty mopey and a fucking maudlin drunk, and if Lucas has to sit here for any longer pretending to listen to her he’s going to go insane.

Huh. Apparently he’s kind of a rude drunk, himself. Shocker.

When Manon finally excuses herself to use the bathroom, he takes his chance to escape, snagging a bottle of vodka on his way past the table and throwing himself down in Eliott’s lap.

“Can I have my boyfriend back now please?” he asks. He’s pretty sure he’s smiling winningly, but from the look Mika’s giving him, maybe not.

Eliott’s laughing at him though, arms wrapped around him, so he’s still counting it as a win.

Mika leaves under duress, muttering something about twinkies and turning the music up to a bone rattle as he does.

“The neighbours are going to complain again,” Lucas says, taking a swig from his bottle. It burns like a bitch on the way down, and it tastes like shit now it’s luke warm.

Eliott says something in his ear but it’s just a vibration, Lucas can’t hear a word of it.

“I can’t hear you,” he shouts, pointlessly, feels Eliott’s chests shake when he laughs.

He has another drink, forgetting, for a second, how awful the last one was, and sinks back into Eliott’s arms, head tipping back on his shoulder.

Eliott’s mouth fastens, wet and burning, to the side of his neck, sucking kisses up under Lucas’ ear; enough to make him shiver.

The booze has made his arms and his eyelids heavy, so it’s easy to close them, easy to let Eliott’s hand on his jaw turn his head for a kiss. His mouth feels sluggish; numb and wet from drinking too much but Eliott’s is hot inside, and his hands are restless on Lucas’ hips, up his ribs, on his neck and up into his hair.

Lucas keeps his fist wrapped around the neck of the bottle, twisting in Eliott’s lap to get closer, get his free arm locked around Eliott’s neck so he doesn’t get any ideas about going anywhere.

They kiss to the pulse of the music, where it’s thumping up through the floor and into their chests.


	5. Blood at the corner of your mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated E

His knuckles are stinging, fresh red and old brown drying in fine lines of them. The face in the mirror has a bloody nose and cherry red teeth. He curls his fist around the edge of the sink and it burns.

Fucking Basile and stupid mouth. They've always said it working faster than his brain was going to come back at kick him in the ass, Lucas just hadn't ever banked on being dumb enough to step in front of him when it happened.

What was he thinking? That guy had been huge.

He runs the water, hisses his way through cleaning himself up. He looks half presentable when the door clicks open and then closed again.

Eliott's got his worried face on, eyebrows drawn together, the sad racoon eyes.

Lucas huffs. “Before you start,” he says. “It wasn't my fault.”

The sad eyes flash. “I know. Yann said you were very brave.”

Lucas has a feeling those were not the exact words Yann would have used to describe Lucas getting his ass handed to him, but he appreciates the sentiment.

“I was,” he says, sniffing. “Very manly.”

Eliott's face creases when he smiles, it's like the sun going behind a cloud just so it can come out again, makes Lucas feel warm right through to his bones. “I'll bet,” and then Eliott's stepping up behind him, a line of heat along his spine and long arms squeezing around him. “You okay?” Eliott asks, pressing a kiss to the side of Lucas' neck.

Lucas watches the last of his blood drain sluggishly down the plughole. “I'm fine. I feel like an idiot. But otherwise fine.”

Eliott's hand comes up to cup his throat, finger tips cradling his chin so he can examine Lucas' face in the mirror. “That's going to bruise,” he says, breath whistling between his teeth.

“Guess I'll have to be the racoon for a few days,” Lucas offers, flashes a grin that makes him wince when his lips splits open again, wet copper bright on his tongue.

Eliott's chin hooks over Lucas' shoulder, eyes meeting in their reflections. He sighs, put upon. “I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?”

Lucas wishes he wouldn't. “It was Basile's fault!” is what he says out loud.

Eliott laughs into his neck; hot breath and the cold point of his nose.

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” Lucas tells him. “Aren't you supposed to be feeling sorry for me?”

“You seem to be taking care of that pretty well by yourself,” Eliott points out, but he cuddles him tighter, hands rubbing at his ribs. There's a pause. “Is there something specific I should be doing to help?”

Lucas's head snaps up. He knows that voice. And he makes the mistake of meeting Eliott's eyes again, the snake charmer ones, that make him flush hot, and cold, and then hot again.

Still. If Lucas has proved anything today it's that he's not a coward, so he tips his head back against Eliott's shoulder and meets his gaze head on. “I can think of a couple of things.”

“Oh yeah?” it's barely a murmur, and Eliott's eyes stay on his while his mouth fastens to Lucas' neck in hot, stinging little bites and hand slips down Lucas' belly, up and under his t shirt, makes his belly caving, skin pulled taut across his hip bones. He pins Lucas back against his chest with a palm across his sternum and pushes his hand down into Lucas' sweatpants.

It doesn't take long. Lucas watches, mouth open, while his face turns red and his chest heaves. Watches Eliott watch him, lip bleached white where's chewing on it, like Lucas is the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. It's making his heart race.

Eliott pulls him off in short jerks of his fist, fast and dirty, and his eyes never leave Lucas' face. It's overwhelming, having all that attention levelled at him, has him wavering between closing his eyes to it and not wanting to miss anything.

“Come on,” Eliott's saying in his ear and Lucas shakes his head, everything narrowing down to rush of his own blood and the pulse between every upstroke of Eliott's hand.

He can't, it's too good, too much, too much.

He comes like a punch to the gut, like the one he took earlier, Eliott's hands pinning him the only thing keep him from folding at the waist.

He hears himself shout, once, can't hold it in, but then Eliott's palm slaps down over his mouth, and his voice, when he speaks, is hushed and amused. “Shh,” he says. “Everyone's still out there.”

Lucas sags, when it's over, watches with dazed delight as Eliott extracts his hand and holds it at arms length.

He gets a kiss pressed to his temple, Eliott's clean hand rubbing at his hip. “Better?” he asks.

Lucas nods. He wants a kiss but his mouth feels hot and swollen, nose throbbing with every beat of his heart, so he settles for pushing his cheek against Eliott's. “My face hurts,” he admits.

Eliott steps around him to wash his hands. “Still beautiful,” he says, because he's Eliott, and he's ridiculous.

Lucas takes it anyway, lets it fill all the spaces between his aching ribs.

 

 

 


	6. New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated G

His ears are still ringing, Lucas’ shoulders shaking with laughter under the arm he’s got draped over them. 

If he’s honest, Eliott lost track of the story Lucas has been telling for most of the walk home somewhere back before they’d had to pause in shadows of that florists doorway so Eliott could kiss his quiet for five minutes. Press his thumbs to the hinges of Lucas’ jaw, feel the bones shift and the skin pull tight, feel Lucas’ hands spread hot up Eliott’s back and into the sweaty mess of his hair. 

Lucas had pressed back into the glass behind him, pulled away, eyes dark and soft, expanding like galaxies. 

Eliott’s breath had caught, like it always does, and then Lucas had ducked back under his arm and pulled him along, kept telling whatever story he’s about to hit the punchline of now. 

He’s glancing at Eliott over his shoulder while he fumbles his keys, mouth moving, checking Eliott’s laughing along. Eliott is, but he has no idea why. The amount of beer he’s got in him is probably the only reason Lucas is letting him get away with it. 

Lucas’ place is empty; moonlight silver across the table and up the walls. Lucas calls out anyway, just to be safe. Eliott’s ears continue to ring. 

They empty their pockets across Lucas’ desk. 

“Still nothing from Arthur,” Lucas says, face screwed up. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Eliott tells him, distracted by Lucas stripping out of his shirt, taking off his watch, ruffling at his hair. Distracted by all the big and small things about Lucas he’s always distracted by. That mole just there, the dimpled ridges of his ribs, his skinny little knees. 

Lucas pulls another face, at himself this time. “I stink.”

Eliott rolls his eyes, already working his way under the blankets. It feels amazing to let the bed hold him up after dancing all night. He can feel his pulse in the soles of his feet, feel the room shimmer. “I don’t care,” he says. 

Lucas chuckles, pressing himself up under Eliott’s arm again, half draped over him. “Probably a good thing if you’re going to live with me,” he says. He sounds far away, like maybe he’s half asleep or maybe Eliott is. 

“I think I can handle it,” Eliott tells him. He turns his face away so he doesn’t have to spend all night spitting Lucas’ hair out of his mouth. 

It’s easy to fall asleep, weighed down by Lucas, whole year stretching out ahead of him. 

**Author's Note:**

> i’m [perfectshadeof ](http://www.perfectshadeof.tumblr.com) over on tumblr if you have a prompt for me or just want to say hi


End file.
